


Teacher's Pet

by kiss_me_cassie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9795446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: Clint Barton is the school's best gym teacher. Natasha Romanoff is it's brand new language teacher. They really don't like one another. Can Coulson fix it?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the be_compromised Valentine Promptathon: High school teacher!AU suggested by Sugar_fey
> 
> Please note that this is the mish-moshiest of all Marvel universes. And silliness. Also, there's only a little bit of Clint/Nat. Consider yourself warned.

Phil came striding out of his office and almost ran directly into one of his best teachers. 

"Melinda, I'm glad you're here. I have a thing I need to talk to you about."

"If it's about the cheerleaders newest fundraising scheme, I've already talked to Cassie and Kamala about it. They're willing to tone down the politicizing a little bit."

Phil shot her a confused look. What was going on with the cheerleaders? On the other hand, the less he knew about whatever was going on, the better. Plausible deniability and all that.

He shook his head. 

"No. I wanted to talk to you about Barton."

"Oh?"

"Listen, I know he's been having a hard time of it lately, what with breaking up with Bobbi, but we can't have him fighting with our new languages teacher. We need a languages expert too much. Can you talk to him?"

"I can try, but you should probably know that Barton's recent irritability isn't because of Bobbi," Melinda said. 

"It's not?"

She shook her head. 

"He got a dog."

"A dog?" Coulson repeated. "I don't understand. Did the dog somehow steal all his coffee?"

The smallest of smiles appeared on Melinda's face. 

"Apparently the mutt is as poorly trained as Barton himself. He said he's been keeping him up all night. Hence, not a lot of sleep, not enough coffee, yada yada...."

Coulson sighed. "Ok. Got it. Get to class. I'll talk to Barton myself this afternoon about our languages teacher. But Melinda?"

"Yes?"

"If there's anything -- and I do mean anything -- you can do to put in a good word about Ms. Romanoff with him? I'd really appreciate it."

Melinda nodded.

\----

"I did not break Clint," Bobbi said as soon as Phil walked into the teacher's lounge. "We only went out a few times before we decided we're better suited as friends. I just want that on the record before any accusations are made."

Phil nodded. 

"Understood. I had wrongly assumed his erratic behavior these past few weeks was because of you but Melinda put that idea to rest. Apparently, it's because he got himself a dog."

Bobbi couldn't hide her laughter. 

"Clint owns a dog?"

"So Melinda says."

"The man is a walking human disaster and can barely take care of himself. How can he take care of a dog?"

Phil shrugged. 

"I have no idea," he said. "But that's the least of my problems with Clint right now."

Bobbi shot him a sympathetic look. 

"The new teacher?"

"Yup."

Bobbi shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "It's really not all that surprising. He has a type, you know."

"Gorgeous, athletic women who are way smarter than him?"

She smiled. 

"Something like that."

Phil tried to contain a groan. 

"Yes, I'd noticed. Luckily, he's also charming enough that most times, even when it ends in disaster, he manages to remain friends with them," he said, giving her a significant look. "But in this case, it appears to be hate at first sight."

His chemistry teacher decided to insert himself into the conversation at this point. 

"Are you talking about the alluring Ms. Romanoff, by any chance?" Stark asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the communal pot. "If I'd had a teacher like that, I'd have taken French, Spanish, _and_ Russian in school. Of course, I wouldn't have remembered a word and would have needed one on one tutoring and who knows where that would have led? I had this English lit tutor one time who… Well, let's just say I learned a lot more than just the classics."

"You're disgusting," Bobbi said. 

 

"Oh please. You're straight as an arrow and yet I've even seen you ogling Romanoff," Stark said. "She's hot. No way to get around that."

"I don't know how Pepper deals with you after a full day teaching preschool," Bobbi said. "You think she'd want a break from toddlers."

"Hey! That… is not at all inaccurate," Stark said in a rare moment of honesty. "And yet the woman adores me." He turned to Coulson. "I'd offer to help with your Barton problem, Bossman, but Pepper and Tash are friends and there's no way I'm getting myself into any of that mess. Now if you want me and Banner to whip up some sort of sex serum to get her and Barton to be all friendly, I'm your man."

" _No_. For the love of God, no. Do not do that," Phil ordered.

Stark gestured toward the door. "So you have the Barton thing covered? 'Cause I've gotta meet with that Parker kid, stop him from blowing up my lab. He has an idea for making this super sticky, web-like substance, which could be used for any number of different applications. The kid is brilliant. Not as brilliant as I am, but brilliant."

"Go," Phil ordered, then added, "And no sex serum! I do not want to hear one more thing about any sex serum."

"Gotcha! Make all the sex serum. I'm on it," Stark said, smirking and backing out of the room.

Phil watched him go then glanced over at Barnes and Rogers, heads bent together over a drawing Rogers had done which reimagined Barnes' beat up bike as a bad-ass motorcycle.

"Steve? Bucky? Any chance you'd be able to help?"

Bucky looked up from their project. 

"Sure, boss, but do you really think I'd be a good choice, what with my previous experience with Natasha?"

"I hadn't thought of that."

"Besides," Bucky continued. "Barton has some sweet ideas on what we can do with the kids in my class on that junker car that's been in the shop forever. I'd hate to piss him off before we got that project off the ground."

Phil sighed. Barnes was right. He had too many conflicts.

"Steve?"

Rogers was usually his go-to-guy, the one with the calm demeanor and cool head. Mostly, anyhow. He'd been known now and then to be a complete and total idiot when he perceived a wrong had been perpetrated and needed to be righted.

"I don't know, Coulson. It seems more like something they need to work out for themselves."

Coulson sighed and looked around the room. The only remaining options were Odinson and Banner.

The problem with Odinson was that he got along with absolutely everyone, including the worst of their students. This made him great as a teacher, but it also made him absolutely useless in conflict resolution. If Phil recruited him to this task, he'd just wind up sympathetic to both of them and unable to see any clear path for fixing the problem.

That left him with Banner, who usually kept to himself. The only person Banner had made any meaningful connection with since he'd started here was Stark. Phil didn't know if that was because Stark was incapable of not being friends with everyone or because of their shared love of science. To be honest, he didn't really care.

Banner's file indicated he'd had some sort of anger management issues in the past and that was what led to his reticence. Phil had seen no hint of it in Banner's tenure at Culver, but that didn't mean it might not be lurking beneath the surface, and that meant Banner wasn't the right person to help him with his problem either.

Nope, he wasn't going to be able to get anyone else in on this. He was going to have to do it himself.

\-----

"Phil, if you called me in here about the fire, I can explain," Clint said as soon as he walked through the door.

"Fire? There was a fire?" Phil exclaimed. Then he shook his head and held up his hand. "No, never mind, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Clint shut his mouth and plopped into one of the guest chairs situated in the office, swinging his legs up onto Phil's desk much to Phil's chagrin.

"So if that's not the problem, why'd I get called in here like a misbehaving sophomore?"

 _Because you're acting exactly like a misbehaving sophomore_ , Phil thought, before taking a deep breath and leaning forward.

"I called you in here to talk about Ms. Romanoff."

Clint immediately looked stubborn. "Awww, Phil! She stole my two best athletes."

"She did not _steal_ them. They are not one of a pair of basketballs or a trick arrow. They are people. She can't steal them," Phil explained patiently.

"Well, close enough," Clint grumbled.

"Be that as it may, we need her. Elena did a fairly decent job covering both our school and the junior high, but her workload wasn't at all sustainable. This school's been without a languages teacher of it's own for far too long and Fury is adamant that Ms. Romanoff stay. I need you to work with her so she _wants_ to stay."

"Why me?"

"Because you're the only one who seems to have a problem with her," Phil said. 

"That's not true!"

"It is true," Phil asserted. "Granted, some of the less experienced teachers may be a little scared of her, but for the most part, the ones who have been here a while like and respect her."

Clint made said something Phil couldn't quite catch, but he didn't bother to ask what it was. He could guess.

"Listen, I know she's smart and beautiful and a little intimidating, but I also think if you worked with her, you could come up with a plan that works for both of you."

Clint frowned but didn't say no. 

"I'm going to take that as acquiescence," Phil said. "I've set up a meeting for the two of you at three-thirty at Fitzsimmons' Cafe. Close enough so you don't have to go out of your way, far enough you won't run into any of the kids from school. Got it?"

"Got it," Clint agreed reluctantly.

\-----

Clint walked into Fitzsimmon's Cafe and spotted Natasha immediately. She was at the counter chatting up Leo, who seemed quite charmed by her. He wondered if he should warn her that Leo was well and truly taken by Jemma but then decided to keep his mouth shut. Coulson had asked him to play nice.

"Ms. Romanoff?" he said. 

She turned and the wide smile on her beautiful face immediately disappeared. 

"Hi, I'm Clint -"

"Barton," she finished, with all the warmth of a spider. He tried not to shiver. "Yes, I know."

"Listen, I don't want to do this any more than you do, but Coulson says we hafta."

She looked him up and down. "Do you always look and talk like your students?"

He shrugged. Coulson said he had to place nice and make sure she didn't quit. He hadn't said they had to be best friends.

"Why don't we got sit down and get this over with?" she said.

He followed her to a corner table. 

"Sure. I have plans in an hour so the quicker the better." 

He didn't mention that his plans included two large pizzas, his dog, and a date with Netflix. He figured she didn't need to know that.

"Fine. Let's cut right to the chase," she said, leaning forward so she was right in his face. 

It was kind of hot, in a scary sort of way.

"I know everyone loves you and that athletes are always the stars of any high school. But it is completely unacceptable to me that Katherine Bishop has been skipping my class to go hang out in the gym each and every afternoon."

"Wait," Clint interrupted, holding up a hand. "She's been skipping class to practice?"

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. 

"I thought you knew."

He shook his head. 

"I didn't."

"It apparently started when my creepy predecessor Rumlow was still teaching," Natasha said. "Since he deemed languages unnecessary for girls, he didn't seem to care that she regularly skipped his class. But I care very much."

"Why didn't Elena say anything?" Clint asked.

"The poor woman was racing back and forth between the high school and the junior high. I don't think she had a lot of spare time to track down wayward kids."

Clint sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I really had no idea. I thought Kate had study hall during that period. I'll talk to her about it."

"Thank you. I would appreciate that," Natasha said, her expression softening. "If it helps, let her know that if she starts competing internationally, it will be a huge asset to know either French or Italian."

"I will." He leaned forward in his chair. "What about Tommy?"

"Listen, I know he's a huge part of your team, but he needs these credits for his college applications and he's got a gift for languages. I'd hate to see him lose out on anything because of track."

"Yeah, but track is important too," Clint argued.

Natasha sighed, then tilted her head a bit, considering. "Why don't we work out a schedule that will allow him to do both? There's got to be a way. Maybe I can tutor him between events?"

Clint looked skeptical. "You'd have to sit through almost entire meets."

"I can do that," Natasha assured him. 

"Do you even like track?"

"I don't hate it," Natasha admitted. "Although I admit dance is more my thing."

"Dance?"

"Ballet, to be specific. I was almost a member of the New York Ballet Company."

"What happened?"

"It was New York. There was a drive by-shooting, I got clipped in the gut. By the time I'd fully recovered... " She shrugged, but he could tell it still bothered her. "I went back to school and it turned out I was really good at picking up new languages. The rest, as they say, was history. So what's your story?"

"Too depressing and too sad to tell."

She smiled, just the littlest bit. 

"I just told you how a gunshot wound ruined my dance career. What could be more depressing than that?"

"Foster homes and running away to the circus?"

She surprised him by laughing and offering him a real smile, like the kind she'd given Leo. Damn, but he was starting to _like_ this woman.

"I think, Mr. Barton, that we could be friends, if we tried," she said.

"How about we start by you calling me Clint instead of Mr. Barton?" he said. "Not even my students call me that."

"Deal. And you can call me Natasha." She glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry, you said you had plans tonight and I've kept you too long already. Maybe we can meet during lunch tomorrow?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I may have, um, exaggerated my plans a little."

Her eyebrow rose questioningly. "Oh?"

"They mostly involve going home to my dog and eating pizza." He paused and then gave her an assessing look. "Would you -- I mean, if you're interested, you could come over and have pizza with us?"

"On one condition."

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I want to hear more about this circus life you led."

"Deal."

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone was interested in who's who in this 'verse in my head, I'm happy to share:
> 
> Fury - superintendent  
> Coulson - principal  
> Bobbi - biology  
> May - gym  
> Clint - gym  
> Nat - languages  
> Tony - chemistry  
> Steve - art  
> Bucky - shop  
> Banner - physics  
> Thor - math  
> Elena - Jr High Spanish  
> Pepper - preschool


End file.
